


Whoever heard of an Omega Empress?

by Tangerine_Catnip



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Courtship, Demisexuality, F/M, Human Outsider (Dishonored), Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Post DotO, Pregnancy Kink, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine_Catnip/pseuds/Tangerine_Catnip
Summary: Emily is sick and tired of having her rule as Empress overshadowed by her status as an unmated Omega. Yet, without any promising options, there's not much she can do about it.





	1. Changing Tides

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write something light and silly to get my mind off things. Also, don't really know why it's A/B/O seeing as nothing in this story couldn't have happened with regular humans.

Emily was tired of the whispers that always followed her while she attended to her court, of the endless questions posed to her by all the visiting dignitaries, of the constant pestering of her advisors and the constant debate in parliament over affairs that should have been private.

You would think after successfully wrestling the empire from a supernatural tyrant and taking her on in single combat, Emily could be trusted to make discussions without the constant questions as to whether or not she was thinking rationally, or succumbing to fluctuating omega hormones.

Yet for many citizens of Gristol, Empress Emily Kaldwin was the ruler by technicality only. A placeholder meant to ferry the Kaldwin blood from her Alpha mother to an Alpha son or daughter.

Had she not been left as the only surviving offspring of Empress Jessamine, Emily would never have taken the throne, and it was a mistake that many were eager to correct.

As a child and then a teenager, she had been given a reprieve, but now that she had presented and was confirmed fertile, not a single day passed without someone mentioning an attractive Alpha she might like or an offer that was made by this or that Barron or Duchess.

The worst part was that Emily wasn't even against the idea. She would have happily offered her neck the moment she was sure she had found someone she could even tolerate, but so far that very low bar had tripped every one of her suitors.

So far, the Alphas Emily had courted tended to fall into three categories;

First, there was the ambitious lot, who saw her as a walking contest where the prize was an empire and royal blood in their offspring. Second, there were the Alphas who seemed all right at first, but who quickly turned sour whenever they were reminded their potential mate held a higher rank than them. (It utterly baffled Emily, who could never imagine having an ego that fragile, but it had happened enough times that it had officially become a 'thing'.)

The third group were the most heartbreaking because there was nothing wrong with them. They were nice and very polite and perfectly pleasant to spend time with when there was something else to do. However, as soon as Emily was left alone with them, it became painfully obvious that they had absolutely nothing of interest to say.

Of the flaws she had found with her potential mates they were the least offensive, and if things went on much longer Emily might just try to settle... but she was not there quite yet.

And so, Emily found herself alone and locked up in her chambers while she waited out yet another heat. She tossed and turned in her bed, desperately tired, but unable to even keep her eyes closed for more than a moment or two.

The ache in her hips was utterly maddening, but she knew that any attempt she made to remedy the situation would be futile at best.

There were devices that could help, but Emily hadn't yet mastered the courage to acquire one. Mostly because ownership of such a thing was technically heresy as defined by the Abby. (Not that she cared a fig for their opinion, but she also really didn't want to be the Empress who accidentally started a holy war over a dildo.)

With a distracted huff, Emily hosted herself out of bed and started pacing her room. Maybe if she just burned off a little of her energy, she would finally be able to sleep? She was used to having her run of the place, and she was almost positive that the confinement was doing her head in almost as much as the insatiable desire to bend herself over a desk.

Going out in her state was risky. Most of the hand-picked City Watch who minded her tower were Alphas, and they would be able to smell her from several hallways away. Emily was hardly defenceless, though. Even with all her biological impulses working against her. She was reasonably certain that she could hold off three or four heat-crazed alphas.

That was only a worst-case scenario. Emily rarely let herself be cornered, and she could move fast as lighting given the motivation. The smell might even make things challenging for once. She'd lacked that ever since that fateful night when she had accepted the tattoo on the back of her hand and the magic powers attuned to her ignoble skill set.

Duly motivated, Emily fished her signet ring out of her sock drawer and used it to unlock the safe room. Then from there, she slipped down into her mother's secret chamber and out the false fireplace and into the hallway. She scanned both directions, finding this area of the tower deserted for now.

With a small flick of her fingers, Emily pulled herself up onto the nearest light fixture. The metal was hot under her bare feet, so she wasted no time moving to the next one.

Emily had to pick a destination, so she settled on the highest part of the tower. The one near the back entrance where the broadcast studio used to be. From the roof, you could see all the way from Kingsparro Island to Slaughterhouse Row.

Emily passed a few patrols on her way, leaving the men and woman glancing around in confusion as their senses disagreed with one another.

Emily made it to one of the chandeliers overlooking the large entrance hall that spanned all three flights of the tower, then paused, looking at the balcony leading to The Royal Protector's chambers and straining to see if the light was still on.

Emily loved her father dearly, but he was stubborn as a mule when it came to matters surrounding endotype. Emily found it a little ironic, seeing as he was the first and only Omega Royal Protector and had been defying expectations since he was old enough to hold a blade.

Still, if he saw her out in the middle of her heat he would throw her over his shoulder and lock her in the safe room until it was over, and maybe send every alpha in the tower away for good measure.

It looked like he was in bed though, so Emily thanked the stars and continued to the adjacent balcony and out the nearest window. With a little effort, she scaled the wall up to the top. The evening was rather cold, and Emily instantly regretted not putting on more than her nightdress before leaving her bedroom.

At last, she reached the top of the grey stone rooftop. Emily grasped the flagpole and used it to pull herself up to standing. The wind was strong, tossing around her short brown hair and the skirt of her gown.

The city below her glimmered brightly against the dark night. Back before the discovery of whale oil, the city of Dunwall slept with the sun, but now the city made its own light and shone back out towards the heavens like a star.

"Everything the light touches will be yours..." Emily murmured, quoting a line from a play she had seen as a little girl. One where Pandyssian forest cats had stood in for rulers of Dunwall.

She had stayed to watch the whole thing, though she had clung to Corvo and hid her eyes when the evil usurper cat had thrown the queen off a cliff.

Emily sat down on the roof and crossed her legs. In the play, the princes cat had fallen in love right before her triumphant return to reclaim her kingdom. Yet here she was back on her throne after having her grand adventure, and still alone. It would have been fitting, meeting someone in the place where her father was born…

Emily sighed. So much for outrunning her hormones. She might as well have stayed in her bed, at least it was warm there.

Emily stood up and walked around the rooftop, leaning over the sides. Someone had left a window open near the top of the spire, so she slipped down and swung herself inside.

The area at the top that had once been stuffed with broadcast equipment was now converted into a guest room, primarily for the view. Because of its relative remoteness to the rest of the tower, it hadn't been a popular choice, and no one had occupied it until very recently.

Emily slipped down the ladder connecting the loft bedroom to the living area. A large fire was roaring away in the grate, giving the room a-

"Good evening, your Majesty."

Emily startled so hard she almost tripped over her own feet. She twisted around and saw a young man with bright green eyes and messy dark brown hair lounging on the sofa just across from the fireplace.

"Gha! Mark! I uh…" Emily faltered until the Empress half of her brain managed to snatch the controls. "M-my apologies, I'd forgotten you'd taken this room…"

Mark nodded and gently folded the corner of the page he was reading before closing his book and resting it in his lap.

"Oh? Well, I suppose that explains your state of dress…" he said looking her over. He paused and took a deep breath through his nose. Emily shuddered. She couldn't smell it herself, but she had been told that the sent of an Omega in heat was about as delicious as a freshly baked cake layered in icing.

"And other things..." Mark added, folding his hands over the book in his lap.

Emily felt her cheeks heat up and she reached to pull her nightgown down a little further.

She really had forgotten all about him, which was utterly ludicrous when you considered who he was… or rather, who he used to be.

He was a discreet houseguest, though. Too many thousands of years as a silent watcher had resulted in a very reserved man who buried himself in books and delighted in eavesdropping on the goings-on in the tower. Yet, he had proved an invaluable source of information, and Emily would have had to be a fool to not want him around and make use of his very unique talents.

Although, when she made the offer for him to stay, she'd never really considered that she might be caught in the middle of her heat, standing two feet away from him.

"You know, it's a very rare Omega who could, or would want, to be running around in your state. You never cease to impress me, Emily," Mark said cutting in on the Empress's swirling thoughts.

"Oh… umm… thanks?" Emily replied.

This was one of the strangest conversations Emily had ever had in her life. Though that was hardly surprising given who she was talking to.

"Look, uh, not that I'm _not_ enjoying this conversation, but... aren't you?"

"Having the expected physical reaction?" Mark supplied. He moved the book out of his lap, revealing the very obvious bulge in the front of his simple black trousers.

Emily told herself not to stare, then promptly failed. She could swear that she could see his knot swelling around the base of his cock, even through the material.

Emily bit her bottom lip and pressed her upper thighs together. Though the movement only really served to remind her how wet she was right now. Give it another five minutes, and she'd probably make a mess of the floor.

Mark took a deep breath and said, "I think all will be well as long as I stay over here," He gave her a small warm smile and added, "I assume you can find your own way back to your bedroom? I promise I won't breathe a word about this to anyone."

Emily nodded. She really should be on her way. She should consider herself lucky that she'd only bumped into Mark, and that he seemed to have his own wealth of self-control.

Still, a part of Emily was a bit disappointed with this otherwise ideal outcome. Mark was an exceptionally handsome man, and she had to admit she wouldn't have really minded if he had come up to her and ran her up against the wall.

Somehow it had never even crossed her mind before. Maybe just because Mark didn't act much like a typical Alpha (or much like a human at all sometimes), but suddenly, it seemed like the best idea in the world.

She could so easily picture him under her. Would he manage to hold that detached bemusement that had been his default for centuries? Or would the animalistic nature of sex finally bring out his humanity?

Emily raised a hand to her neck, covering the bare bonding sight. She already had his mark on her body… Why not make it two? Emily licked her lips and met his eyes. Mark tilted his head to the side, but Emily couldn't tell if he was genuinely confused or egging her on.

Emily swallowed. He'd make her ask. She knew that. She'd never win a game of cryptic implications with him, better to go in for the kill.

"Yeah, I could go back to bed… but I also wouldn't mind if you saw your way to giving me a hand with my little… problem," Emily suggested, fiddling with the hem of her nightgown.

Mark raised his eyebrows and let out a very fake gasp of shock. "Empress Emily Kaldwin. First, you dally in black magic, and now you're propositioning the outsider himself? When you decide to commit heresy you really go all in, don't you?"

Emily smiled sweetly back at him. "That's not an answer."

"True, and I can't just vanish into thin air this time, can I?" Mark admitted.

He sighed and stood up. Emily tensed, she wanted to sprint over to him, but she also wanted to see him come to her. After all, she was the Empress here…

And, amazingly enough, he did come to her. He gently cupped her cheek, and she rested her hand over his, the black ink standing out against her skin.

"Alright, Emily. I'll 'give you a hand'."

Emily nodded and swallowed, then reached up to pull him down into a kiss. She pressed her body up against his, feeling the firmness in the front of his pants rub up against her upper thigh.

Emily pulled back and caught the edge of the bedroom loft out of the corner of her eye. She wrapped one arm tightly around Mark's middle and flexed her fingers. A flash of dark purple energy, and the pair of them were tangled together in Mark's bed, Emily on top.

She took the hem of her nightgown in her fingers and pulled it over her head. It was a bold move, but Emily wanted him to see all of her. To show off her breasts and legs and everything else In-between.

Mark's breathing slowed as he took her in. Emily didn't have to ask if he liked what he saw, she could see it in his dilating pupils. Emily took hold of his shoulders and caught him in another kiss. She reached down, blindly searching for the button on the front of his pants.

A hand closed over her arm, and suddenly Emily found herself on her back, their positions reversed and Mark holding her down.

"No."

Emily stared up at him, half shocked and half confused. She wasn't used to being told no, especially not in the calm but firm tone usually reserved for misbehaving children.

She dug her fingers into the front of his jacket. She wanted to be filled up, for him to fuck her until she became a whimpering mess, aching to be bread. She wanted to feel his knot swell trapping her in place, and the flood of his cum pouring into her.

Then, a few months from now when she started to show, she could walk proudly into court and prove to every one of those sycophants that the future of the empire was resting safely in her womb.

Emily tried again. She was so wet, she was sure he would slip in perfectly. All she had to do was get his pants off.

Mark gritted his teeth and growled. Emily froze, then promptly went limp. The sound was pitched at a very particular frequency, and it struck a cord in the back of her mind. Emily's Alpha wanted her to be still, and instinct compelled her to follow his lead.

Mark ran his fingers through her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I said that I would give you a hand... and that's exactly what I'll do," he murmured.

Emily nodded, though the reaction she wanted to have was closer to a frustrated scream. Of course he would make her regret her choice of words. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

Mark wrapped an arm around her and pulled her up until she was sitting against the headboard. He paused to kiss her neck, right over the spot where Emily wanted his teeth.

Emily tried to thread her fingers into his hair and pull him in closer, but he didn't hold still long enough.

Then, just as he promised, he slipped his hand between her legs and ran his fingertips over her lower lips. Emily shivered and rested her hands on his shoulders. She adjusted her position a little, spreading her legs to give him enough room to do whatever it was he was planning.

Mark rested the palm of his hand on her mound, the slight curves fitting together perfectly. He ran his fingers over her dripping folds, using all four digits together to explore as much of her as possible.

Emily moaned, her heart rate climbing and her skin heating up. She was starting to notice his sent now, a heavy musk that made her eyelids feel surprisingly heavy.

This wasn't exactly what she had wanted, but Emily had to admit that it felt better then she would have expected.

She looked up at Mark, and he gave her a smile.

"Are you ready for more?" He asked softly.

Emily couldn't even imagine how that was a question. Of course she wanted more.

"Yes, please," she replied. Trying to sound as sweet and polite as possible.

Mark chuckled. "Good try Empress, but as gorgeous as your puppy eyes are, I'm afraid they won't help you much right now."

He moved his pointer finger up and rested it on top of the hood protecting her clit. Then he started drawing slow circles over it, teasing the hypersensitive spot.

"Oh, fuck..." Emily hissed. She rocked her hips up against his hand, but that only made him pull back until she stilled again.

Emily dropped herself down onto the pillows. He couldn't just keep going forever, right? She wasn't going to cum from just this.

Even as she thought it though, Emily was starting to notice the tightness in her abdomen strengthening with every passing moment.

"Mmhmm… I… I don't get it…" Emily murmured. "This never works when I do it myself…"

Mark laughed and kissed her forehead. "Perhaps you were giving up a little too easily? This, like with many things, takes patience to get results."

Emily huffed. She could now officially put 'being talked down to' on the long list of indignities she'd been forced to endure tonight. Although Maybe, just maybe, part of her liked it. There was something about the way he did it that didn't get under her skin.

It could be his utter disregard for rank, or his unflinching pragmaticism…

"Emily, you won't be able to let go if you're mind is on a hundred different things." Mark insisted, braking in on her thoughts. "Take a few deep breaths and relax."

Emily swallowed and nodded. "Sorry…"

Mark hushed her and set back to work, teasing her clit with the one finger while the others stroked her labia.

Once or twice his fingertips pressed right up against the opening to her body, but he never dipped inside. It would have been maddening enough to make her scream had Emily not already committed to staying calm.

Emily's breath hitched. She was close, so very close. She whimpered softly, she needed something to push her over the edge.

Mark licked his lips, and Emily just caught the smirk before he took his hand back and very gently slapped her right between the legs.

Emily squeaked in surprise, but then his fingers with back on her clit, thee of them grinding down firmly against it.

That was all she could take. Emily gasped, and her whole body tightened up as the shock of pleasure took over all her senses. Mark wrapped his free arm around her, pulling Emily close. She clung back, her laboured breathing slowly settling as the overwhelming sensation faded.

Mark kissed her cheek, then gently eased her back down onto the bed. He sat up and collected her nightdress from the floor.

"As much as it pains me to say it, you should put this back on. There's a chill in the air tonight," Mark said.

Emily nodded and sat up. She felt like someone had gone in and replaced all her bones with iron. As soon as it was on, she flopped back down on Mark's bed.

She moved to snuggle up against his chest, but he slipped away from her and got out of bed.

"Wait, where are you going?" Emily asked, surprised when she heard the note of distress in her voice.

"Just getting my book. I'll be right back."

He returned a moment later as promised. Emily knew it was discourteous to look, but she still couldn't help noticing that the 'physical reaction' he had mentioned was still standing out in the front of his pants.

Mark settled down next to her and pulled the covers up over her lower body. Emily pursed her lips and asked, "Isn't there something you'd like me to do?" She batted her eyelashes at him, trying to mimic how the courtesans at the golden cat used to.

"Well… right at this moment, I wouldn't mind some quiet," Mark replied.

"Oh…" Emily replied. She slunk down further under the covers and Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Emily didn't know why he didn't want to go further with her. Though she could guess at one reason, or maybe even ten. Now that her mind was starting to clear, she had to wonder if she should be grateful for his restraint.

"You should sleep. You look as if you haven't had a good rest in a while." Mark observed as he turned the page of his book. "You can worry about whatever is bothering you tomorrow."

Emily nodded. She honestly couldn't have asked for a more comfortable spot, curled up next to a familiar alpha, her body heavy with the weight of a good orgasm. So, she settled with her head on Mark's chest and closed her eyes.

* * *

 

It felt like only a moment had passed, but when Emily was gently shaken awake, she found herself bathed in early morning sunlight.

"I hate to wake you, but Corvo just declared a lockdown of the tower, and if they don't find you soon I fear the military might get involved."

Emily blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"A… a lockdown?" She looked up at Mark to see if he was joking, but she couldn't find any trace of it in his face.

"You did go missing in the middle of your heat. Crovo's probably worried you've been kidnapped," Mark said.

Emily groaned and forced herself out of bed. "Why didn't you go and tell him that I was fine?"

Mark blinked at her. "Oh… I suppose I could have done that. It honestly didn't occur to me."

Emily glared at him. Though she couldn't say that she would have expected any different. The man standing in front of her was not The Outsider anymore, but he still had all the habits of the old god, frustratingly enough.

Emily stretched out her arms and legs, despite the rude awakening she felt fantastic. Her heat had cleared up somewhat, and while It wasn't over, it was still a lot less distracting than it had been.

She gave Mark a goodbye kiss on the cheek, then jumped down from the loft and strode to the door. Ironically, getting back to her room safely would be made all the harder by Corvo sounding the alarm.

Emily made it down the twisting stairwell to the hallway off the atrium. Before she even had time to wonder where her father might be, Emily spotted him three floors down, standing on the base of the grand stairway between the twin statues of Jessamine.

Emily could make her way down to her father in a flash, but he was currently surrounded by high ranking members of the city watch. Something told Emily that seeing their Empress descend from the sky in her nightgown would be a bit too much for them.

She jumped up onto the railing and reached to the nearest light fixture, then to the one in the centre.

The Guards below were delivering grim news to Corvo. No trace of her in her room, or anywhere else in the tower.

They must have missed the top room in the north-east tower then. Perhaps the person sent to check had heard the rumours about the Empress's reclusive houseguest. Nothing even a fraction as scandalous as the truth of course, but trending in that direction at the very least.

Regardless, Emily needed to get a message to her father without alerting the others. She snapped a small crystal off the chandelier and picked her target very carefully.

It landed on the marble floor with a thunderous crack that echoed around the whole hall. The guards all reacted at once, unsheathing their blades and grouping up to protect each other's flanks. But only Corvo looked up, and Emily edged out of her hiding spot to wave at him.

Ignoring his panicked guards, Corvo backtracked towards the inner stairwell and Emily moved to meet him at the foot of it.

The moment she touched down beside him, Corvo wrapped her in a tight bear hug. Emily felt a tiny pang of guilt. She never wanted her dad to worry, but it still happened fairly regularly.

"Where have you been?" Corvo asked as he stepped back. His hands resting on her upper arms.

"I was in the tower! The guards are just not very good at looking."

Corvo frowned. "You were supposed to be in your room. You know you shouldn't be out right now."

Emily bit down on her bottom lip. She knew, but she didn't really care.

"I just needed some fresh air. I can take care of myself."

Corvo sighed. He didn't want to fight with Emily on this. Outsider knew they had trodden this ground too many times before. "Just because you can take a risk doesn't mean you should. What if something had happened?" He asked.

Emily almost smirked at that. This time she had tried her damnest to try to make something happen.

"Yeah... I'm sorry, dad."

Emily wasn't really sorry, and Corvo Knew it, but he was prepared to give her a pass on it anyway. At least this time she had turned up shortly after he had sounded the alarm and not hours later.

"Alright, let's just get you back."

Together they trekked back up to the throne room and the Royal suite tucked away behind it. Corvo paused at the door, holding the knob a little tighter than was necessary.

"Ring," he said, holding out his hand for it.

"Dad!" Emily shot back crossing her arms over her chest,

"It's only one or two more days," Corvo replied, his hand still held open.

Emily smouldered. She was the bloody Empress, wasn't she? She shouldn't have to give up anything she didn't want to.

But as with most traditions, things were never that cut and dry. As the bearer of royal blood, all matters of the state fell on her shoulders, but matters of the household were still firmly in the hands of her Omega patent until she was mated or married, whatever came first.

Corvo almost never held this over her, but that reprieve also made those few times stand out strongly in her memory.

Emily slipped the safe room key off her finger and dropped it into her father's hand. Corvo closed his fingers around it.

"I promise this will be over before you know it," Corvo said as he gently closed and locked the door behind him.

Emily sighed, he'd said things like that to her for nearly a decade now.

Emily tossed herself back on her bed. She grabbed a handful of the front of her nightgown and took a deep breath in through her nose. She could still smell Mark on the fabric. Emily sighed and wrapped her arms around her middle. She hadn't really gotten a moment to stop and think.

Good news; she had finally found an alpha who's romantic and sexual attentions didn't make her want to commit minor acts of arson. Bad news; she'd somehow managed to make an even more unsuitable pick than her mother. (You wouldn't think it could get worse than a foreign-born mercenary, but here she was.)

Worst news; she had no idea if Mark was really that interested in her. Knowing the way his mind worked, Emily wouldn't be surprised if fingering a heat-crazed omega was just an interesting pastime for him.

Emily reached up to grab one of her feather pillows and hugged it tightly to her chest. Even with all those worries hanging over her head, last night had still been amazing.

He'd made her cum just by touching her, and it had been the best orgasm she'd ever had.

She had never said thank you… did you even say thanks after something like that?

Emily crushed the pillow tighter against her chest. Maybe the best place to start would be admitting it to herself.

"Alright, Emily. Through a series of choices that we will not be judging right now, you've fallen head over heels for the human manifestation of the Outsider, AKA; Mark. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

Emily stared up at the ceiling of her canopy bed. The bad news was a lot easier to deal with than the worst news. After all, Jessamine had gotten away with it? Why couldn't she?

The thought of a 'secret' affair didn't sit well with Emily, though. Not being able to call Corvo her father had confused and upset her as a child, and she was loathed to pass that experience on to her own pups. (Especially since she was hoping to end up with at least four or five. Having a single child without a partner was one thing, but she guessed that around her third unexplained pregnancy, everyone would be quite sick of pretending they didn't know what was going on.)

Besides, she had some advantages here that her mother didn't. Corvo had been known across the isles when the young Kaldwin princess was still under the watchful eyes of her governesses, but Mark had quite literally appeared out of thin air. He could be the lost son of the king of Morley for all anyone knew…

"Huhn…" Emily murmured out loud.

Maybe she did have something productive to do while she waited out the rest of her heat.

* * *

 

Emily Kaldwin's drawing room was a surprisingly low-key affair. Jessamine had been known across the isles for taking tea in lavish surroundings with vaulted ceilings, golden chandeliers and walls covered in expensive paintings. However, her daughter believed that if she was familiar enough with a person to invite them into her inner chambers, the time for lavish displays of power and wealth were long over.

And so, the Empress of the isles sat in a simple red armchair at a low coffee table, her hands gently folded in her lap. To her left sat her royal spymaster, an indomitable woman with a quick temper and even quicker reflexes who operated under the pseudonym "Megan Foster."

To her right was an old noblewoman fingering a glass of Champaign, her grey hair piled on top of her head in a tight updo, and last but never least, was the young man sitting across from her. An amused smile on his thin lips.

Now that they were all seated it fell to Emily as the host to conduct introductions. She gestured with an open hand towards the noblewoman. "Mark, perhaps you remember Lady White? She and my father met at a very signaller party at the Boyle estate back in the years of the Rat Plague."

Lady White laughed. "What a capital way to put it. You should have seen the look on my face when they announced that Waverly was missing and I put two and two together. That was hands down the best night of the season."

Mark acknowledged her with a polite nod and said, "Adelle White, once youngest and now only living member of the White family. A forgotten child in your youth, yet now you survive them all. You were never against marriage, but it was always more useful as a bargaining chip, and now it's too late to have regrets."

"Ah, true. All too true," Adelle said with a sigh. "But how on earth did you know all that?"

Emily cleared her throat. "That brings us to what we wanted to talk to you about, Mark. Since Lady white is the last of her line, she has kindly agreed to an… adoption, of sorts."

"Of sorts." Adelle reinforced with a nod of her head. "It would be far too scandalous to simply adopt some ruffian from the street, but a first cousin once removed from some forgotten corner of the empire? Why that could only be encouraged. After all, No one wishes to see an old house come to such an unfortunate end."

"And as fates go…" Adelle continued a mischievous grin on her lips. "-being absorbed into the Kaldwin Dynasty is hardly the worst." She gave Mark an appraising look and took a small sip from her glass. "I must say, Emily, you share your mother's taste. Tall, dark, and handsome. Doesn't look like he's much of a fighter, but I'm sure he has other uses."

"I do," Mark agreed.

Billie looked over at Emily, noting the colour in the cheeks and deciding to help get the conversation back on course. "I've finished planting the rumours and forging the paperwork. All that's left now is to put in an appearance at a social event and introduce yourself as Lord Marcus White."

"Of course, the moment you arrive, everyone will guess that you're an illegitimate child I'm bringing forward as a latch ditch effort," Adelle added

"Thus, distracting from the real deception at play," Bille finished.

Mark crossed her arms over his chest, sat back in his seat, and set his focused green eyes on Emily. "While I appreciate the effort. You must know that I have next to no interest in joining your aristocracy.

"Yes," Emily agreed. "But an identity is an identity, and it pays to have one. Noble or not."

"She's right," Billie added. "You remember the hassle I had to go through to get us passage to Dunwall? If I'd had this..." Billie reached over, picked up a folder full of papers from the table next to her, and waved the lot in his direction. "They'd have begged us to come aboard."

"And, uh…" Emily began, her gaze settling on the floor. "If you were a member of an aristocratic family… that would open up certain opportunities."

"Opportunities?" Mark asked, raising his eyebrows at her. "Like what?"

Emily folded her hands tightly in her lap and turned to her spymaster. "Uh… Billie could you-?"

"Nope. I put in a lot of work for this. I want to see you ask him."

"Seconded," Adelle agreed.

Emily groaned. Traitors, the pair of them. She should have known they'd abandon her in the name of a good laugh.

"Mark… I would very much like it if you would do me the honour of…"

**Shit.**

"That is to say, I was wondering if…"

Billie snorted and said, "If you don't spit it out, I'm going to say it for you, and you won't like how I phrase it."

Emily swallowed and nodded. Even getting her throne back had felt easier than this.

"I'd like for us to formally explore the probability of marriage...or mating… I don't really care which."

"As long as you knock her up in the end," Billie chimed in. "There's a dynasty to continue after all. Right Empress?"

"Only if things work out!" Emily said quickly.

Now all eyes in the room turned to Mark. He rested his chin in one hand as he considered. "You must know that I'm not well-versed in the procedure of royal courtship."

"Neither am I," Emily admitted. "I'm sure we can figure it out as we go along. If you want to."

Mark nodded and reached out for her hand. Emily gently placed it in his, and he brought it up to his lips and gently kissed her fingers.

"I accept."


	2. Starry Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, everything about this is utterly self-indulgent and no part of me is ashamed of it.

It took a few months to get the pieces in place. Once Mark had been integrated into high society, they had needed to wait until the collective attention had shifted before staging his introduction to the Empress and beginning the courtship publicly.

So far, Mark had earned a reputation among the aristocracy for being cold, aloof, and positively boring, but none of that had really mattered when he had the affections of the Empress.

He had been "moved" to Dunwall tower for the duration of the courtship for her majesty's convenience, although all their interactions (at least those the public was aware of) would still require the presence of Corvo, now acting as a chaperone in addition to his role as Royal Protector.

Tonight was scheduled to be their first formal outing. Emily had struggled for weeks deciding what they should do together. All the usual pastimes seemed far too bland to interest Mark. He didn't have the social skills to enjoy a ball, she'd already tried and failed to explain to him how Croquet worked, and she was reasonably certain that if she took him riding, he would spend more time talking to the horse than to her.

But then, when all hope seemed lost, a letter found it's way to Emily's desk inviting her to open the Grand Exposition.

It was a futile effort on their part. Emily had opened the very first expo, but in the years since it had slipped further and further down her chain of priorities. There were simply too many events that would benefit from the presence of the Empress and only one of her.

This time, though, The Coalition for the Promotion and Development of Fine Works of Industry was in luck, because she had just the young intellectual who would love to view the latest inventions from all across the empire.

So she wrote back and now she was being escorted by her father down to the carriage station, dressed in one of her finest dark purple and gold suits.

"So…you're not mad?" Emily asked, struggling a little to keep pace with Corvo.

"No, I'm not mad."

"See you keep saying that, but your tone says," Emily paused to adopt her best gravelly Corvo impression, 'I hope you know what you're doing, because this all sounds crazy to me.' "

Corvo slowed and turned to raise an eyebrow at her. "How could my tone possibly say all that?"

"Dunno, just does."

Corvo sighed, bringing home all 55 of his long years in the exhale.

"Yes, Emily I'm worried, I'm always worried, but I trust you and your choices." Then after a moment to consider Corvo added, "-and I know that I have as little of a chance of talking you out of this as I did when I tried talking your mother out of choosing me."

"You tried to talk her out of it?" Emily asked, though now that she thought about it she could easily see it happening. Corvo kneeling at her mother's feet, utterly enthralled by her while also trying to pull away for her sake.

Corvo nodded and replied, "yes I did, right up till the end..."

Emily glanced up at her father's neck. If you squinted, you could still see the very faint outline that was all that was left of his bonding mark. Typically, couples would refresh the scars every few years, and as cruel fate would have it, Corvo had been about due when he was forced to watch his Alpha die in his arms.

"No one told Jess what she could or couldn't do, including me…" Corvo said, patting his daughter affectionately on the shoulder, "-and she passed that down to you."

Emily thought about reminding Corvo that he was hardly the most amicable of earth's creatures and might have done some of the passing down himself, but she decided it was better to let him have the moment.

"Besides, what do I have to complain about? You picked a nice, perfectly ordinary, aristocrat from an old and respected family," Corvo added with enough irony in his voice you could have spread it on toast.

"Oh well, you know me, father. Truly, I am the picture of delicacy, good breeding, and sound Judgement," Emily replied.

* * *

 

They arrived at the gatehouse where the rest of the party was assembled. It was mostly city watch and her personal guard, with a small subset of support staff, including four footmen and two porters.

One of the many difficulties Emily had to adjust to as Empress, was the fact that she couldn't travel anywhere without 50-100 people working together behind the scenes to make it happen. Routes had to be planned, cars had to be procured, roads had to be closed and guards needed to be pulled from regular duties. When all was said and done, even the most informal of outings seemed more like full-blown royal parades.

All the pomp and circumstance clearly weighed on poor Mark, who was waiting for her by the carriage, digging his foot into the dirt and utterly ruining all the hard work his valet had put into shining his boots.

Emily glided over to him and laced her arm into his. "You look as if someone just trod on one of your pet rats."

Mark's pout deepened. "Don't even joke about that."

Emily covered her smirk with her hand. Then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek as an apology.

"…I just don't like being around this many people," Mark admitted, lowering his voice.

"Neither do I, but there's not much choice I'm afraid. We must let the public catch a look at us. If only to give the tabloids more than just speculation. Would you believe that no less than twenty old friends of yours have surfaced and shared their memories of you with the press?"

"Oh? The reviews were favourable, I hope."

"Very, and surprisingly accurate, considering. They've got you pegged as sensitive and reserved but with a heart of gold." Emily gently tapped him on the tip of his nose. "Anyway, Just wait till we get to the expo. I think you're going to love it."

Mark narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to recall a distant memory. "I've looked in on it before. Prototypes powered by whale oil, machines stitched together from dreams and twisted metal. Many hope that they will catch the eye of a wealthy investor, like the young ladies at a ball in search of a suitor. Both depend on flattery and spectacle to draw the eye."

Emily nodded, his slightly unusual description washing over her. She was used to it.

"Yes, but now you've got a slightly different perspective. The inventions on display at the expo become next year's modern conveniences. I can't tell you how excited I was when the heated towel rack finally came on sale last month." Emily leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper, "And I've already seen how much you enjoy it too."

Corvo cleared his throat and Emily took a step back, retreating to a respectable distance for an unwedded Omega of her stature. She straightened her posture and squared her shoulders, then glanced around as if she had only just noticed all the people waiting for her.

"Are we ready?" She asked, adopting a tone that made it very clear that her question was really an order.

The guard captain bowed to her, then began to bark out orders at her subordinates. They scattered in all directions before her, like cockroaches fleeing a maid with a broom.

Emily led Mark up into the carriage and sat down on the plush blue seats decorated with the crest of the empire. Corvo followed and sat down across from them. The carriage had a folding roof, but it was currently tucked away, leaving them sitting in the open air.

The procession consisted of about five vehicles of various types. The lead car was a small and speedy affair staffed by four guards, two of which were stationed outside of the vehicle and held on to exterior mounted handles. If any problems were found on the route ahead, they would dismount and see to the issue before the rest of the cars arrived.

The next two carriages were standard four-seaters and were the first of the main body of the precession, acting as a buffer for the royal carriage behind them. Depending on the length of the journey these carriages could be joined by up to twenty more. However, this short jaunt to the park hardly required it.

The royal carriage Emily was riding in was discreet, sleek, and black bodied. Not the best for celebrations, but then it was only one out of a set of ten, each with different functions, capabilities, and traditions associated with them. The oldest and most famous carriage, affectionately dubbed 'Shiny Sivi', still required horses to pull it and was covered in half a ton of silver shaped into twisting vines and statuary.

Because of its age and weight, Emily would only ride in it three times in her life. The first had been for her coronation, the second would be after her marriage, and last it would carry her on her final journey from the tower to wherever she would be buried.

Directly behind Emily and her guests was the largest of the support carriages, an armoured transport containing all the key members of her personal guard who were required to monitor the area once she arrived at her destination.

Then behind them was the rear-guard car and finally, an ambulance, just in case the worst should transpire.

This wasn't a formal parade, but the very act of clearing the streets drew attention regardless. All along the route people gathered behind the barricades, straining to catch a look at the Empress. Emily did her best to smile and wave at all of them, but it was more important to retain the dignity required for her position.

Out of the corner of her eye, she was keeping tabs on Corvo and Mark. Corvo had promised he wasn't mad, but that didn't seem to have stopped the staring contests he got into with Mark when they thought she wasn't looking.

It wasn't as of Mark was a hapless victim in this game, either. He tended to handle Corvo with all the tender kindness of a cat playing with its favourite chew toy and enjoyed it just as much. Emily had to cross her fingers and hope that the pair of them would get over it sometime before the wedding… Well, if there was going to be a wedding, no need to get ahead of herself.

The precession took a hard-left turn into Hydrangea Park. Up above the treeline loomed a massive domed roof of white metal and glass, the tip of the iceberg that was the Crystal Palace.

The palace and the expo that would be held inside it had been in the works since Emily's childhood, but the project had only been completed a few years ago when the massive greenhouse-like building had been erected.

All the individual pieces had been created off-sight and moved overnight to avoid depriving the public of the use of the park. Then the navy had been called in to help with construction, and together over 5000 mariners had hammered support beams into place and raised the giant pillars that held up the glass roof.

The real genius of the structure, though, was how the massive elm trees that grew in the park were left untouched by the affair. For all the time the expo ran, they existed inside the pavilion and were covered in strings of miniature oil lights that turned the palace into a glimmering beacon come nightfall.

Then, when the month of darkness loomed, the whole thing was dismantled and stored until the following month of songs. Neat and efficient, just as the empire liked it.

The director of the Grand Exposition was waiting at the front entrance along with the chairmen of the Royal College of Art, Music and Organists, and the new head of the Academy of Natural Philosophy who had taken over after Sokolov's retirement.

Emily was assisted out of her carriage by her footman, where she waited until someone finally got between her date and her father, and brought Mark to her.

Emily laced their arms back together and leaned in to murmur, "Did you Have fun?"

"Of course. It's always nice to spend time with an old friend."

Emily looked back at her father. The royal protector was famously imperturbable, but his daughter could still pick out the slight curve of his lips and the wrinkles in his forehead that proved someone had ruffled his feathers.

Emily approached the entrance and waited as each of the men bowed to her one at a time and introduced themselves. As Empress she required no introduction, so she turned to Mark instead and said, "Gentlemen this is Marcus White."

"Of course, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The expo director stepped forward and offered his hand to Mark. A long awkward moment passed as Mark stared at the offered hand while making no effort to take it.

The director withdrew and cleared his throat. "If it pleases your majesty, I've arranged for a tour of the exhibits before we open to the public this afternoon."

"That sounds lovely," Emily agreed. "Please lead the way."

Corvo took up his position several paces behind Emily. While the rest of her guard fanned out to cover the premises.

The heart of the crystal palace was its large central atrium. The flags of all the nations in the empire hung from the rafters high above, while below a gorgeous stone fountain centrepieced the large common area with countless patio chairs and tables.

On either side of this oasis was a veritable city of tents, arranged in perfect rows on two separate stories. Each exhibitor was given a share of space to set up as he or she wished, and the places were bordered with hanging bolts of brightly coloured cloth.

The industrial works were primarily on the first floor since they tended to be rather cumbersome, so the tour started with them.

Emily walked passed several lines of new motor-carriage designs, paying polite attention as the chief officer of the General Motors Alliance described the tiny enhancements made to each one in comparison to last year's models.

The last in line was a black monstrosity with a covered cabin and an engine block roughly the size of 9 coffins stacked three high and three deep.

"Just how fast can it go again?" Emily asked.

"480 furlongs per hour. Even over rough terrain."

Emily looked at the beast again. She could see it having some application in military situations, but she really wasn't sure Dunwall was ready to have one of these things tearing through its streets.

"And that's all while staying within the daily limits set by the wale oil rationing act?" Emily asked.

The chairman stood a little straighter and held his hands behind his back.

"We're hoping that soon your Majesty will reconsider those restrictions. Once you've seen how it's stunting the industrial progress that's so vital to our fair empire."

Emily's lips tightened. She turned, intending to not-so-covertly roll her eyes at Mark, only to find her arm mysteriously empty. She glanced around, noticing suddenly that both he and her father had vanished.

Noticing her bafflement, the guard captain pointed down the row of tents and said, "they went that way, your Majesty."

Emily sighed and trotted off after them, unintentionally sending three of the most learned men in the empire, and one of the richest, lumbering along behind her like a pack of cocker spaniels.

Emily found them two rows over, between the automatic shirt press and a display of edible bowls made from miniature waffles.

A middle-aged woman dressed in no less than three multicoloured shawls sat at a table in the middle of her booth. Mark and Corvo sat across from her, the former wearing a smile and the latter with his brows knitted and a frown on his lips.

"Emily, there you are. You simply must try this," Mark called, waving her over.

The woman's attention was focused on filling the china cup in front of Mark from a brass pot, but hearing him address the Empress made her jerk back in her seat, spilling dark brown liquid all over the tablecloth.

"Y-your Majesty!" she stammered, she tried to stand and bow but got her feet caught up in the legs of her chair and nearly tripped over.

Emily winched sympathetically. "Please, don't get up miss-"

Emily paused, waiting for the woman to introduce herself, but Mark chimed in instead.

"-Clarissa Belmond, inventor of the Self Percolating Brew O-matic."

"The what?" Emily asked.

Mark took a fresh cup from the pile near Clarissa's elbow and held it out to her. Clarissa nodded and filled it from her pot. There seemed to still be enough left to fill it most of the way. Emily sat down on Mark's other side, and after another encouraging look from him, she took a small sip.

"It's tea!" Emily exclaimed. She had no idea what she had been expecting, but it was a welcome surprise all the same. She took another sip. As part of her sacred duties as Empress of the isles, Emily had drunk hundreds of different teas in her lifetime, to the point that most flavours blended together in her memory and made it difficult for one to stand out from the others, but this one more than did the trick.

"This is delicious. What is it called?" Emily asked.

Clarissa blushed deep crimson at the compliment. "Um… It's the Gristol breakfast blend from Fortress & Masonry? Your majesty's favourite?" Her voice went up at the end like she was asking a question, though she and everyone else in the empire already knew that Emily loved that flavour.

"But it tastes…" Emily tried another sip. She recognised it now, but there was so much more to it then she had ever noticed before. Subtle under-tastes and a hint of spice. "What have you added to it?"

"Nothing added, your Majesty. Just brewed a little differently." Clarissa explained as she pushed her chair back and gestured behind her to a gigantic construction of brass and pipework. It had four tanks the size of wine barrels, with little glass windows that displayed the bubbling black liquid and the tea leaves swirling around.

"That's the Brew O-matic then?" Emily asked though she was looking over at Mark as she said it.

"Yes, your Majesty," Clarissa replied.

"It's quite… large."

"Yes, but it's only a prototype. I'm here to demonstrate it and hopefully gain some investors."

Emily nodded and pulled a card out of her pocket. "Here's the name and contact information of my secretary, Erick Plainstow. He should be able to meet with you if you'll come to the tower sometime in the next few weeks. I'll let him know that I wish to personally fund further development of your invention."

Clarissa reached out and took the card with a shaking hand. "Th-thank you."

Emily finished her cup off. It really was some fantastic tea. Her pot tomorrow morning was going to be sorely lacking in comparison.

Emily looked at the behemoth brewer again. Maybe she could make room for it. Somewhere…

"And you're definitely not selling the prototype?"

Clarissa bit her lower lip, considering. "For you, your Majesty. I would have another made."

Emily grinned. Sometimes it really was good to be the Empress. She thanked Clarissa, stood, and gently took Mark by the arm.

"No more running off. If I must suffer through this nonsense, so do you."

Mark frowned, though he couldn't quite manage to keep the hints of a smile out of the corners of his mouth.

"I didn't mean to run off, I thought Corvo had told you where we went?" Mark looked back at the stoic figure hovering a few steps behind them.

"Corvo, next time remember to tell Emily before you leave. You know how worried she gets."

* * *

 

"You should really take it a little easier on poor Corvo," Emily said as she placed her spoon down on the table between them. She was nearly done her ice cream, all that was left now was to try some of this supposedly edible bowl.

"Take it easy? I'm not sure what you mean?" Mark asked, breaking off piece of his own waffle bowl and popping it into his mouth.

Emboldened by his lack of a negative reaction, Emily followed suit. It crunched loudly between her teeth. It tasted like a biscuit, but with the firmness of a dry cracker.

"I mean you should stop playing the scary void god just to ruffle his feathers," Emily explained when she was done chewing.

Mark looked at her, his full attention finally drawn from the crowds milling around on the expo floor below their glass box.

"Oh, Corvo knows I don't mean any harm. We've been friends since you were a little girl."

Emily winced. "I think that's part of the problem, given that you haven't aged a day since then."

Emily snapped off another bit of her bowl and tried dipping it in the dregs of her ice cream. She was delighted to find how much better it tasted. Maybe if the waffle bowls were little smaller, you could eat the ice cream and the bowl together?

"I'll be the first to admit dad is a lot of fun to tease, but you might have even more fun with him if you two were 'friends' in the human sense of the word. You know, without the irony?"

Mark leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I suppose. You know that I'm not really good at making non-ironic friends."

Emily thought about it for a moment then asked, "Do you like playing cards?"

Mark tilted his head from one side to the other. "It depends..."

"Corvo really likes a game called 'fox in the hole'. It involves predicting your opponent's next move and trying to bait them into cornering themselves. I think you'd like it, and If you play with him, you can do all the antagonising you like without risking a punch to the face."

"I do like not being punched in the face."

Emily snorted and looked over at him. He had a little bit of strawberry ice cream in the corner of his mouth.

"You have a…" she trailed off, realising it would be faster to get it herself. She leaned over the arm of her deck chair and kissed him, letting her tongue slide out to gently lick the corner of his lips.

* * *

 

When Emily had been little, one of her favourite paintings in the tower was of a man and a woman gliding down a river in a small rowing boat with lush forest-like vegetation on both sides. The woman had looked so elegant in her white ruffles and voluptuous hat, holding a parasol over her shoulder while her dashing lover in tailored black rowed them along.

She had once pointed to it and told her mother that one day she would be the lady in the boat and that the man in black would be her husband. Jess had ruffled her hair and smiled, even though she knew what Emily did now, that the painting was symbolic, not literal and that the pair represented the duality of existence.

Still, the idea lingered as something she'd like to do. Even if the ocean would have to stand in for the river and she would be the one rowing since her would-be consort didn't exactly have the upper body strength to manage it.

It had taken some doing to set it up, but now she was here, Emily had to admit it was living up to her expectations.

The water lapped gently against the hull in a steady pattern. Emily had picked one of the calmest nights in months, but even at it's stillest, the ocean still breathed.

Above them the moon and stars shone brightly, their light magnified by their reflections in the pitch-black water.

Emily had found an old mattress in a storage room at the tower and used it to create a little nest in the bottom of the boat, just like the one she had made for herself in the tower safe room. She had even added a wool blanket to the mix, which had turned out to be fortuitous since it was turning out to be a cold night.

Snuggled under the blanket with her head resting on Mark's chest, Emily thought she might just try to paint this scene herself to prove how much better it was.

"Can I show you something I've been working on?" Emily asked, hardly having to raise her voice over a whisper to be heard in the stillness.

"Of course," Mark replied, then after a moment asked, "Do we have to get up?"

Emily laughed. "No. just... hold still okay. I need to concentrate, or else we may get wet." She felt Mark stiffen under her at that implication. He didn't need to be that worried though, Emily hadn't accidentally dropped one in months.

Emily lifted her hand up. She was wearing a pair of skin-tight black gloves, but no simple fabric, thick or thin, could hide the fiery glow as she called on the power of the void through the tattoo on the back of her hand.

The sound of a single drop of water tumbling back into the sea pierced the silence. Then a large, perfectly-formed sphere of water rose up into the air beside the boat. Emily closed her fingers, pulling the water up higher.

At first glance, it looked as if the sphere were spinning, but on closer inspection, it became clear that the water was rushing along the edge of its invisible prison, like tap-water swirling in a glass.

"Fascinating…" Mark murmured. He reached up, and Emily let the sphere drop just enough for his fingers to barely graze the surface. He drew a shallow part in the water, like the kind made when a hand was thrust into a rushing stream.

"What were you hoping to accomplish with it?" Mark asked.

Emily sighed. She was proud of her progress, but when compared to her goal, the little water balls lost a lot of their charm. "I wanted to see if I could summon storms. Like the witches who captain pirate ships."

Emily closed her eyes, and a series of small splashes echoed from all around them. Two dozen spheres lifted towards the sky. Moonlight bounced off the reflective surfaces, making them look like they were made from mirrored glass.

"It seems you're most of the way there already," Mark observed. He sat up very slowly, so as not to startle Emily. Then propped himself up against the side of the boat, glancing all around to see the full extent of Emily's display of power.

"You have an impressive amount of control. If that's all it took, you could have hurricanes dancing to your whims."

Emily sat up as well. She had been hoping he might have some advice for her. Even though she knew it would be like pulling teeth.

"What am I missing?" She asked, fixing him with her full attention.

"Think of it like trying to hold a butterfly. If you clench your fingers you'll crush it, but if you offer a slice of fruit, it will choose to land in your hand," Mark explained.

Emily blinked back at him, trying to parse the metaphor. "So… I need to hold a fish?"

Mark smirked and shook his head. "No. Call it to you, but don't force it."

Emily looked around her. She had no idea how she was supposed to call. It was just a huge mass of water and salt.

Mark must have seen the confusion on her face because he switched tactics.

"Do you know your scales, Empress?" he asked.

"My scales?... as in music? Of course I do."

"Sing them, and move the water to the rhythm. Feel it flow in and out of you, match the timing of the waves."

"You want me to sing?" She asked with a sceptical frown.

"The leviathan sing."

That was not anywhere close to an answer, but Emily took it anyway. Slowly, she let the spheres drop one by one until the sea was calm again. Then she stood, keeping her feet apart, so she didn't tip the boat.

She glanced down at Mark, just to make sure he wasn't playing a trick on her, but as far as she could tell from the outside, he was genuine.

Emily took a deep breath.

"Do, re, mi, so-"

Emily broke off. She just felt so silly, standing in a boat floating in the grand canal and singing the most basic warm up to the water.

"If it helps, I promise I'm not judging you too harshly," Mark offered.

Emily groaned. "Can I sing something else? Please?"

"Anything you like."

Emily closed her eyes, trying to find something she knew all the words to and was simple enough that she wouldn't mess it up.

Then Corvo's voice came to her. Soft and deep, singing a tune that was forever carved in her memory.

She'd fallen asleep to him singing it more times than she could have counted. It had always calmed her down, no matter what awaited her when she woke.

One time stood out, the night after he had rescued her from the golden cat. Callista had tried everything to get her to sleep, and eventually, Emily had decided to pretend just to make her stop.

Then she'd heard heavy footsteps on the bridge connecting her tower to the attic of the hounds' pit pub and Corvo slipped into the room. Callista warned him not to wake her and in the pause that followed Emily could tell he was fixing her with one of his looks. This one probably along the lines of 'which one of us spent nine months pregnant with this child?'"

Callista didn't offer any further protests as Corvo kneeled beside her bed. Emily knew that he knew she wasn't asleep, but she lay still anyway just to see what he would do. He rested his hand on her back and gently ran his fingers up and down, then he started to sing.

Back in the boat, Emily took a deep breath, channelling that moment. Corvo had inherited the song from his mother and one day she was going to pass it on to her own children, so she needed to practice anyway, water magic or not.

Emily closed her eyes in concentration and began to sing.

_"The sun will rise again, my child,_

_The sun will rise again,_

_Lay your head and calm your heart,_

_The sun will rise again,_

_Don't let the darkness frighten,_

_Don't you curl up and cry,_

_Hold fast again till morning,_

_When daylight comes to claim the_ sk _- Ahh!"_

A loud thud cut Emily off as a wave slammed into the side of the rowboat. She lost her footing and landed on her hands and knees in the stern of the boat. Mark reached down and helped her up. Below them the placid mirror shine of the ocean was gone, replaced by churning water.

"You're controlling this. Don't let it push you around," Mark insisted.

Emily swallowed and got back on her feet.

" _Light shall always conquer,_

_For the dark forever knows,_

_It's nothing without its partner,_

_So does the record show."_

Emily lifted her hands, her tattoo burning against her skin as two twisting pillars of water struck up towards the sky on either side of the boat.

Emily closed her fingers and the rushing water turned into a pair of miniature cyclones. Either could have tossed their little rowboat halfway across the canal, but with two turning in opposite directions in perfect sync, they stayed rooted in-between.

" _For every night, a morning,_

_For every death there's life,_

_Trust the world's turning,_

_And sleep throughout the night."_

Emily let the twisters drop. She cast her mind into the water, down into the depths. Calling on the full power of the ocean.

_The sun will rise again, my child,_

_The sun will rise again,_

_Never ever doubt it,_

_The sun will rise ag-"_

The boat started to drift backwards. It was only a small movement, but something about it made your heart slide slowly into your stomach.

Emily tried to real it back, but as any natural philosopher with an interest in physics would tell you; 'for every action there must be an equal and opposite reaction'.

The boat kept sliding backwards until it crested a huge column of water. Emily glanced down at Mark. She would have never been able to imagine those perfectly proportioned features of his set in any emotion stronger than mild amusement, but at that moment his face was the very picture of fear.

Emily's heart hardened inside her chest. The incontestable protective streak she had inherited from her father rising to the surface.

She could feel the wave coming. A few more seconds and it would overtake them. There are only two ways to protect yourself once you're caught in the pull. Face it head-on and try to break through, or get out in front and ride it.

Emily made her choice.

"Try to hold on to something!" Emily shouted struggling to be heard over the roar as the wave started to crest.

Emily slammed her foot down on the prow of the boat, using what control she had over the water to force it to gather under the hull.

Then like the crack of a whip, forwards momentum kicked in. The wave moved like the paw of a wild tiger, striking out towards the tower. Emily fought to keep them stable, balancing the boat on the head of a pin as they rode the wave.

The wind caught the fabric of Emily's tailcoat, whipping it about like a flag in a thunderstorm. Salt and water sprayed all around her, then two seconds later, it was all over. The wave dropped out underneath them, and their little boat slowed to a leisurely crawl.

Emily aimed them toward the tower dock, and the prow of their boat hit the stone with a solid thud that sent Emily toppling over backwards, landing right on top of Mark.

"Fuck!" Emily swore, the stars above her doing a little dance until her vision refocused. After another moment to gather herself, Emily rolled off Mark and asked, "are you alright?"

Mark blinked slowly at her. He was panting heavily, but he didn't seem much the worse for their misadventure.

"Y-yes. I think so," Mark replied.

Emily sighed in relief and rested her head on his shoulder. "Maybe I shouldn't have tried that while we were in the water?"

"Perhaps. I'll admit I also wasn't expecting results like that on your first try."

He reached up and pulled out the last surviving hairpin in her updo. Emily's dark tresses fell loose, and Mark ran his fingers through her slightly damp locks.

"You are an exceptional person, not that you would ever need me to tell you that."

He leaned up, she moved down, and their lips met in the middle.

"You should work on your singing, though," Mark added once he pulled back. "Your C's and A's are rather flat."

* * *

 

"What have I done?" Emily wondered allowed as she stared down at the drawing-room table.

Billie elbowed her in the stomach and hissed, "Shut up, I'm trying to watch."

It was Corvo's move next. He took two cards from his hand and laid them out on the board. One face-up and the other face-down. The design on the face-up card was a bleeding heart pierced by three identical silver swords.

"Bold move Corvo, as always," Mark observed a distinct cat-like purr in his voice. "Let's see if it pays off."

He took three cards and set them out opposite Corvo's set. Two face-up and one face-down. The image on the right card was of a young man sitting at a workbench crafting a set of eight pentacles, while on the left a woman wearing flowing blue robes and an ornate crown held a golden goblet aloft before the shining sun.

They took turns drawing from the deck and adding to their displayed cards until each had 9 on the table, four face-down on Mark's side, and five on Corvo's. Then at the count of three, they flipped them.

Billie was the quickest to do the math in her head and broke out laughing once she realised. "Ha! The old man didn't stand a chance."

Corvo shot a glare at her and crossed his arms over his chest. Billie shrugged and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "fine, the man who looks very handsome for his age, didn't stand a chance."

Mark tilted his head toward the bottle of whisky between them. Corvo sighed, grabbing it in one hand and his empty shot glass in the other. He filled the latter from the former and swallowed it down in one go, while Mark set about shuffling the deck.

"Father, maybe now is a good time to pack it in for the night?" Emily suggested. "Your playing can't be getting any better."

"N-no I've got this," Corvo replied gruffly, waving his hand in her general direction. "Just watch."

Mark passed the deck to Corvo, and he split it into four sections then put it back together.

"How many more rounds do you think he has in him?" Billie asked, glancing over at Emily.

Emily considered the growing red flush in her father's cheeks and guessed, "Four or five, depending on how quick they are. After that, he's probably going to pass out on the table."

In the end, Emily's prediction turned out to be exactly correct. She elected to take a tipsy Mark up to his room, while Billie gave the near-unconscious Corvo a piggyback ride to his chambers.

* * *

 

As the warm and temperate months started to make their slow slide towards ice and frost, Emily found herself spending more and more time in Mark's room, mostly lounging about in the living area below the loft.

The space was remarkably comfortable for being in such a remote part of the tower. Mark always had the fire going in addition to the odd burner, or kettle on a heating coil, so the temperature never dropped below comfortably warm.

Emily suspected that the habit was related to the countless years he'd spent in the eternal cold of the void, but she never saw a reason to bring it up. Especially now she had gotten used to taking off a few layers once she arrived.

Once, just to see his reaction, she had divested herself of her shirt as well as her coat. But if Mark was aware that seeing a ladies' corset and chemise was unusual, he hadn't shown any signs of it.

Still, it was nice to stop in the middle of her busy day and strip off some layers of her Empress's façade, (literally and figuratively) so Emily had made it into a habit. Presently, she was lying stretched out on the sofa across from Mark's chemical work table, wearing only her pants, corset, and the short-sleeved cotton undershirt that buffered her skin from the rough materials that made up the structural portions of her undergarments.

She'd been watching him work for a while now. He was trying to recreate the findings of an experiment on the dilution of whale oil that had been recently published in the Journal of natural philosophy, chemistry, and the arts.

Judging by what Emily could parse from Mark's frustrated tirades, the article had concluded that the chemical composition of whale oil couldn't be altered in a way that would prolong it's burn time or reduce the overall rate of consumption and argued that The Academy should suspend its research into that area.

According to Mark, this was both patently absurd and possibly the result of interference by the whale barons who would stand to lose out if demand for oil dropped.

Emily didn't doubt that he was right, but even the Empress couldn't just march up to the academy and insist they needed to reconsider their meticulously researched conclusions without any evidence of her own. So it was up to Mark to find the flaw in their experiments and write a convincing counter-argument.

Though certainly sympathetic to his plight, part of Emily was frankly delighted to see him taking a stake in something tangible. She had been a little worried that he would spend the rest of his mortal life passively observing those around him, unable or unwilling to involve himself out of sheer habit.

Being willing to make investments in the future was a requirement of parenthood, and while Emily could have survived her co-parent's disinterest, she was happier knowing that wouldn't be the case.

Mark stepped away from the small vile of whale oil he had been boiling to scribble in his notebook. The intense look in his eye as he practically attacked the page with a pen made something in Emily's lower tummy start to ache.

She was just thinking about babies again, wasn't she? Emily drifted back to that fantasy, trotting over well-worn ground. She imagined what they might look like, the months carrying the extra weight on her hips, how it would feel to hold them in her arms for the first time.

Emily shook her head. she was letting her hormones run away with her again. She and Mark weren't even engaged yet, and if you didn't count that first night when he had helped her relieve the tension from her heat, they hadn't really gotten physical with each other yet.

It had been rather slow going. There were plenty of kisses, and many hours twined together in one fashion or another, but not much else. The pacing was perfectly typical for courtship between nobles, but Emily and her lover were far from typical.

Mark left off writing and turned the heat on the burner down all the way. He shut the book and came over to her. Emily lifted her feet to allow him to sit down, then rested them in his lap. Emily knew not to ask how his work was going, so she reached for something else.

"You know I'm going to go into heat in a few more days," she said, not quite realising how blunt that sounded until she heard it herself.

"I've noticed…" Mark replied with a sideways glance. "I'm just far too polite to say something like; 'you smell delicious today. Is it a new perfume, or are you ovulating?'"

Emily laughed. "Next time you should say it. I wouldn't be offended."

She crossed her ankles in his lap. She paused at the edge of making the offer before deciding to jump. "Did you want to join me in my bed chambers for the duration?"

Mark looked away from her and shook his head. "No. I don't."

"Oh."

Emily felt a bit like she had misjudged how many stairs were left till a landing and trodden on thin air. She crossed her arms over her chest and dropped her shoulders.

Mark rested his hand on her leg and rubbed her calf. "I understand if you're disappointed. You're a product of the society you live in, and unfortunately, that society ties your desirability as a sexual object to your value as a human being. I can see why declining you're advances might have a negative impact on your self-esteem, so let me offer this as a countermeasure; you are a brilliant, courageous, and caring woman, and I love you as deeply as any person can love another."

Emily's mouth fell open a little. If her emotions were tangled up before, then that had just upgraded it to a bonified clusterfuck.

"I… I love you too," Emily tried. That part at least she knew how to respond to.

Mark squeezed her ankle. A flicker of a smile crossing his lips, though the tension remained in his posture.

"I've meant to talk to you about this for a while, actually. I am truly sorry that I put it off for so long. It was cowardly of me and unfair to you."

Emily scooted a little closer to him on the sofa, her worries suddenly overwritten by fresh concern for him.

"-I've told you how The Outsider was made, about the ritual that took my name and my life away from me. When the knife fell I wasn't much older than 15, but as you can see, that's no longer the case. The void slowed my ageing immeasurably, leaving me to experience maturing over thousands of years instead of five or six.

Given the… let say, 'explicit', nature of some of the rituals performed in my name, many assumed I had a special interest in the pleasures of the flesh, but the truth is that the void does not lend itself to desire of any sort. I cared for how romantic or sexual entanglements would shape the path of history, not for the moments themselves.

So, with no real experiences to draw from before my time as The Outsider, and all my knowledge gained when I had no chance of feeling those emotions, I find myself very well informed on sex and sexuality with no real desire to act on any of it."

Mark sighed and added, "I believe the old axiom goes; 'It's not you, it's me.'"

Emily swallowed and nodded. She honestly didn't know what to think just yet. Mostly she was angry at herself for not even thinking this could be a possibility. Especially after how he had handled her in her heat.

Mark spoke up again, interrupting before she could get wrapped up in her thoughts. "One of the reasons I've been avoiding telling you… not that this is an excuse, I just want you to know. Is that I don't think this will be permanent. Lately, I've begun to feel… Well, perhaps it would be fair to say that you're starting to awaken something, my darling Emily. For example, I really would like to untie your corset right now, just to see how it fits together, all the layers that go into making your perfect bustline."

Emily followed his gaze to her chest. The hormone-addled part of her mind wanted to take both his hands and invite him to explore, but the rest knew she should be concentrating on listening right now.

"-That probably sounds silly… but it's more then I would have expected months ago, and more then I can say for any other person I've encountered. The best I can explain, it is that for me, love and desire must go hand in hand, as one grows the other will eventually follow. So, I really do think that I'll be able to give you everything you want if you'll give me your patience in return."

"Of course I will!" Emily hardly managed to wait for him to finish before she replied. There was more, and it felt like the words were coming from deep inside her chest instead of from her head. "Even if you're wrong. Even if you don't ever want to be with me in that way. I don't care. That night when I stumbled into your room, all I wanted was for someone I didn't despise to give me an heir, just for the sake of shutting people up, but instead, I ended up with a partner who cares about me and challenges me to be better, and makes even the smalest things worth doing."

Emily pulled her legs back and dropped one on the floor while the other braced against the couch cushions. Mark realised what she was doing and moved along with her until she was fully seated in his lap. His hands rested on her hips as she cupped his cheeks in both her hands. "I don't just want a child anymore, I want yours. If it turns out that's not what fate has in store, then I'll find some way deal with that, but I couldn't handle losing you. "

Emily kissed him slowly, savouring every second their lips were connected. She drew it out for as long as she could, then fell back into his lap to catch her breath.

She was only there a moment before she realised something.

"You're hard..."

"Uh… yes." Mark murmured. To be fair, Emily's statement hadn't exactly given him an opportunity to sugar-coat it.

"Would you like to… do something about it?" Emily asked.

Mark looked away from her. Emily understood. He didn't have to say no, but she wouldn't make another move until he said yes.

She got out of his lap and sat down beside him instead, resting her head on his shoulder.


	3. Burning like Ice

"You look unhappy," Emily said, as she ran her fingers over Mark's cravat and adjusted the golden pin keeping it in place.

"I'm still annoyed I even have to do this. My paper spoke clear enough on its own," Mark replied.

Emily laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Welcome to my world. I'd get so much more done if I was able to cut the theatrics, but we both know that's not how things work. Just keep your chin up and explain it to them like you did to me."

Mark frowned as Emily flatted out his jacket collar. "There's a difference when your speaking to an audience of one, I'm used to that."

"Then look at me and pretend the others aren't there. I'll even make funny faces if it helps."

"Please don't."

Emily took a final look at him up and down, deeming him suitable for the hallowed halls of the Academy of Natural Philosophy. She interlocked his arm with his and said, "Alright, we should probably catch up to the others before father calls another lockdown."

Together they walked arm and arm from the entrance hall of the Euhorn Kaldwin memorial library to the secluded meeting chambers tucked away behind the biography section.

They were the last to arrive, though technically, Emily was never truly late for anything because nothing could start without her. She bid the appropriate greetings to the few members of the academy who ranked high enough to require her attention, then she slipped away toward the back of the room and sat down between her royal spymaster and protector.

A blackboard had been cleared, and the five or six senior members of the academy who had come to see his presentation waited patiently as he took a moment to copy a formula or two out of his notebook.

"You think this is going to work?" Billie whispered in Emily's direction.

Emily folded her hands in her lap looking around to make sure they couldn't be herd over the soft scratch of chalk. "I think so… While none of these men would shed a tear for the whales themselves, they absolutely care about the fortune that could be made by patenting an alternative power source. Mark just has to convince them it's still possible."

"If he thinks so, then it must be true," Billie said, putting the extra emphasis on the 'he'.

Emily nodded, "Unfortunately, void-given omnipotence can't be listed as a source in a journal."

Near the front of the room, the head of the academy tapped his desk with the top of his cane until the audience fell silent. Emily met Mark's eyes, and she gave him a thumbs' up. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she swore she saw him straighten up a little.

* * *

 

"There's so much more left to do."

Emily leaned back against the iron latticework railing. "There always is."

"I still don't have a working formula."

"So? You're just one man. There's only so much you can do. You're only trying to solve the most complicated problem of our era."

Mark rested his head on his folded arms, gazing out over the river. The view from the academy was very different from the one at Dunwall Tower. Here the canal looked less like a waterway and more like the mouth of the vast and endless sea. Here the water was deep enough for the whaling ships, though thankfully none were passing right now since that would have made the moment just that much more depressing for Mark.

"More are dying with every passing day."

"You can't dwell on that, or you won't save any at all. You got them to listen, and that's still a victory."

Emily patted him on the back, but the gesture just seemed to make him slide further into his sulk.

"It's so much easier to sit back and watch the tide than be part of it."

"I know."

They stood in silence for a while. Ice was starting to form around the edge of the waterway. It never completely froze over, but it did get cold enough at the height of winter for some of the namesakes of the month to appear in the capital city.

"Would you give it up though?" Emily asked quietly, almost afraid of what his answer might be. "If you could just walk right back into the void and stay there forever?"

Mark snapped up to standing and fixed his gaze on her. "No. Never."

He took Emily's hand in both if his and squeezed them tightly. "I'm sorry… I suppose I must sound like an awful bore, languishing in my own melancholy like this. But overall, I'm enjoying this even more than I thought I would. Even if it's complicated, frustrating, and unspeakably tedious at times. I suppose I always knew that mortals carried on for a reason, but feeling it, having a cause to pursue and a person to live for…it's truly remarkable."

Emily found that she was glad to hear it. Even though she was sure that would be his answer.

"Oh, that reminds me, Corvo asked me to give you this," Mark added. he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny wooden box and handed it to Emily.

Emily stared down at it. She had just seen her father an hour ago. Why hadn't he given it to her himself?

The lacquer on the box was starting to peal, and the hinges were rusty. Curiosity peeked, Emily released the clasp and popped open the top. Inside was a recently polished silver ring, topped with the four gemstones of the empire. Ruby for Karnaca, sapphire for Dunwall, emerald for Wynnedown, and amethyst for Dabokva.

"It used to belong to Beatrix Kaldwin. A gift from your grandfather on the night he was crowned emperor," Mark explained. "Your mother never wore it, but she hoped that you might, one day."

Emily looked from the ring, to him, then back at the ring again. She waited to see If he had anything to add to that, but he didn't seem to. "A-Are you asking me to marry you?"

Mark tilted his head and frowned. "Hasn't that been the idea this entire time? Did I need to ask?"

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. She had genuinely no idea whether he was serious or not.

"No. You know what.  **I'm**  going to ask," Emily decided. She took the reign out of the box and tucked it away. She paused to unwrap the length of cloth around her left hand, revealing the ink underneath. She took his hands in hers, the tattooed hand on top.

'Marcus White, once known as The Outsider and as the name imprinted on my hand, will you join me in the bonds of righteous, and lawful matrimony?" she asked.

Mark pretended as if he was thinking about it before asking. "Must we have the ceremony in the Abbey? I think we might be committing some form of sacrilege if so."

Emily shrugged. "yes, and probably."

"Then If that's what it takes..."

Emily leaned closer to him. "You still haven't said it yet."

Mark smiled and her. "Yes, I'll marry you."

* * *

 

The first thing Emily wanted to do was tell Corvo, but for the first time outside of a game of hide and seek, she couldn't find him anywhere.

Mark trailed along, staying far enough back that by the time he caught up with her, she had finished searching one room and was moving on to the next.

Most of the scholars were wintering in their family estates outside the city, so the library was completely devoid of anyone who might have seen where her father went. She had checked in the with guards outside the door, and he hadn't passed by them, but beyond that, he could be anywhere.

Emily stopped to catch her breath. Mark drifted over to her and helpfully tucked a close strand of her hair back into her bun.

"Perhaps we should head back on our own? He suggested. "Corvo and Billie are more than capable of finding their own way back."

Emily sighed. She knew he was right, but she still didn't want to give up just yet, "It's not like him to vanish like this… Unless he's chasing after you, anyway."

Mark accepted her point with a nod. "There's so much more of the academy left to search…. If only you could see through walls."

Emily blinked at him then slapped her forehead with a hand. "Ugh. Right. Dhu, Emily," She muttered to herself.

Emily closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the whole world was tinged with dark purple. She looked over at Mark, all his features had vanished behind a vibrant orange glow. The floor under his feet was patterned with equally glowing footprints leading off in the direction they had just come from.

Emboldened, Emily strode off down the hallway, looking to both sides as well as up and down to the floors above and below. The yellow glow made it difficult to tell people apart, but after a moment or two of looking, Emily could rule out the false positives.

Then, up and to the left, Emily spotted a pair of broad shoulders and an unusually short and tight-fitting tailcoat. Billie seemed to be with him since the second orange outline had an arm that ended just after the elbow and a hole in their face where an eye should be. Presumably, her dark vision couldn't detect the parts of Billie that had been replaced by shards of the void.

Emily found the stairs and took them up, closing in on the room they were in. Mark reached out and took her hand, hating her mid-step.

Emily was about to ask why he had grabbed her, but then the positioning of the Orange highlights suddenly leapt out at her.

She might not have been able to see where Billie's right hand was, but she could guess by her elbow and the way Corvo was reacting.

"O-oh..." Emily whispered, suddenly very concerned about keeping her voice down. "Did you know about this?"

"Yes," Mark replied. "Billie confided in me. She feels quite conflicted about it, for reasons I'm sure you can guess, but it seems the harder the two of them fight to not fall, the faster and harder it happens."

"Why didn't father tell me?"

"Take a guess. You'll probably be right."

Emily bit down on the inside of her cheek. After only having known Billie as an ally against Delilah, Emily tended to forget about the secret Billie had confessed that night on the deck of the dreadful whale. She still couldn't imagine that gruff but caring woman hiding behind one of the frightening black masks that had torn her away from her mother and delivered her kicking and screaming in the hands of the Pendleton's, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.

Emily blinked her eyes until her dark vision subsided, and she could properly see the concern on Mark's face as he pulled her into his arms.

"Let's get back to the palace. You'll be better equipped to deal with this after a cup of tea," Mark offered.

Emily agreed, and the two of them started back down the stairs.

* * *

 

"The situation with the Abbey is a little complicated. The high overseer and all those under him are still preaching against the corruption of The Outsider as if nothing has changed, but the oracular sisters are a different problem."

Billie paced around her office as she talked. Floating between maps of various parts of the city and the empire pinned up against the walls. Charcoal Markings were made all over though their meaning was imposable for anyone besides the spymaster to divine.

"When I conducted my little raid on the royal conservatory, I had a chance to… Billie paused to gesture the air quotes around the next word, " 'speak' with Sister Rosewyn. She's as crazy as they come, but she proved to me that the powers the sisters boast are as real as any black magic you and I can wield… or they used to be, if Rosewyn's prediction came true. The important part is that I know they know that the Outsider Is no more. Though in the version of the future they saw, it was at the end of a knife."

Emily bit down on her bottom lip. She remembered Billie telling her something along these lines before, but it hadn't been nearly as relevant back then. "so, they think he's dead?" she asked.

"Yes, and even if they don't, they won't dare breath a single word of this to anyone not in their sect. Especially in the wake of the Abbey's failure to unseat a witch from the throne. What they need now is unity against a common enemy to remind people why they pay their tithes, so they'll cling to the outsider's ghost for as long as they can."

"And what about the eyeless?" Emily asked.

"The eyeless have gone underground. I've tried all the normal channels, and a few abnormal ones, but I can't find a single soul who knows what happened to them and is willing to talk for blood or money."

Emily sat back in her chair, crossing both her legs and her arms. "I was afraid that's what you would say. As soon as we announce the marriage date our faces are going to be printed in every magazine and newspaper in the empire. If anyone would be able to recognise him, it's them."

"Maybe, maybe not," Billie said with a shrug. "Without the black eyes he looks a lot like any other reclusive noble with an interest in natural philosophy."

"Maybe…" Emily said quietly.

Billie dropped down into her chair and put her feet up on the desk.

"Honestly empress, the truth is so strange no one would even believe it if you pranced around the streets naked screaming 'I'm getting married to the outsider!'"

Emily winced. Even after spending months on a boat with her, Billie's rough manner sometimes caught her off guard. She got the point loud and clear though.

"You think it'll be safe, then?" Emily asked.

"As safe as any event of this size," Billie replied with a nod. "Even if it wasn't, would you call off the wedding?"

Emily thought about it for a moment. Emily the Empress was very concerned about keeping the peace, however Emily the woman also had very strong opinions on the matter.

"No."

"Then that's all the answer you need," Billie said with a smile.

Emily stood and started to leave, before pausing at the door.

"Thanks, Billie."

Billie nodded and picked up her pipe from the ashtray on her desk. Emily hesitated. Maybe she should say something. Like telling her that she didn't need to keep her relationship with Corvo a secret and that they had her blessing?

On second thought, that sounded rather presumptuous. Empress or not, it really was none of her business what they did with one another. She only knew at all because of a bit of bad luck and some black magic.

Emily closed the door behind her with a soft click. She needed to think more about this.

* * *

 

Owing to a combination of the untimely death of the Olaskir line, Emily's Grandfather having been married before the crown was placed on his head, and her mother's love affair; the people of Dunwall hadn't celebrated a royal wedding in over a hundred years.

No one really knew exactly what it would look like, apart for the fact that it would be an event chronicled in the history books and would probably shut the whole city of Dunwall down for at least a week.

It was suggested that the wedding be planned for the month of songs. Right before the start of the Fugue Feast, so that the festivities afterwards could go on without the involvement of the Abbey becoming an issue.

Five months was far too short a turn around to plan an event of this magnitude, so they had postponed it until the new year. Which unfortunately also meant dragging the whole process out for ages.

If it been up to Emily, she would've had a small ceremony in the gardens, but once again the will of the crown superseded her own, and the scope of things had spilt far behind what she could get a firm grip on. As it was, Emily couldn't really care less about the exact details of her wedding, but that didn't stop her advisors from piling samples from every flower shop and dressmakers in the city on his desk

Emily let out a long breath and looked back at herself in the full-length mirror. At least she'd have a short break now. No matter what else was going on in her life, an incoming heat would put all of it on hold.

They had been coming much more frequently in the last while, but that wasn't unusual. She was spending so much time with her mate that her body couldn't figure out why they weren't already pregnant.

Emily wouldn't be bullied, even by her own ovaries. Her body could knock her down all it liked. She would get to it when she was ready, when they both were ready.

She had ended up getting those blasphemous objects though, and used some of the advice Mark gave her about taking her time.

A loud rap on the outside of her dressing room startled Emily so badly she dropped her jacket on the floor. She turned to see one of her ladies' maids standing at the door and looking remarkably pale.

"Your Majesty. You may want to consider going to speak with your fiancé. There's… a disturbance coming from his rooms." The poor woman was turning over backwards to avoid insisting that her empresses intervene.

"What kind of disturbance? Did no one go to check?" Emily snapped.

"We did! But he screamed at us to leave. Your majesty, I really think he needs you."

Emily bit her bottom lip. She was staring pick up on what her maid was trying to tell her.

"Okay. Get everyone out of my chambers and lock all the doors. I'll find my own way back if I need to."

Emily took one last glance down at her clothing. She had been caught in the middle of undressing and was wearing nothing but her under-linens. She didn't even have a corset on to keep everything in its proper place. Still, it wasn't as if this would be the first time she'd gone running around her tower painfully underdressed.

Deciding it wasn't worth the time lost, Emily set off. Scandalizing a few more of her unfortunate staff as she flew through the hallways and up the stairs. She landed on the threshold of Mark's rooms just in time to hear the sound of glass shattering.

A flood of very colourful swears and a muffled thump followed. Emily gathered herself and stepped inside.

Mark was laying on the sofa face-down, breathing heavily into the pillow. Over by his workbench a pool of dark blue liquid was seeping into the floorboards. Before she could get within a foot of him, Mark sat up and stared right at her.

"Emily?" her name was mixed with a low growl that sent a chill through her.

"Hey, are you okay?" she murmured edging a little closer to him.

"I... I don't know…"

Emily could smell him even from the doorway. She knew exactly what was wrong, but she didn't know how she wanted to handle it. She settled down on the opposite side of the sofa from him and patted her thighs, inviting him closer.

To her surprise Mark ended up on the floor, hugging her legs to his chest with his head resting in her lap. Emily ran her fingers through his hair, almost petting him.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes..." Mark admitted into her skirt.

"It must be hard having your first Rut as a full-grown adult."

"R-rut?" Mark muttered the sudden realisation dropping into his voice. "that's what this is, isn't it? this is awful…"

"it will pass," Emily reassured him. "I've had more heats as well. We've been spending so much time together, I probably set you off by accident."

Mark ran one hand up her leg to her hips and started fiddling with the drawstring on her drawers.

"You smell so good."

"So do you." Emily agreed.

They sat like that for a while. Mostly still aside from Mark's largely aimless explorations of the more extraneous details of her undergarments.

"Does this mean I'm ready?" Mark asked.

"You need to be the one to tell me that," Emily explained. She was rating enjoying the little inversion from the time when she had run into him mid-heat.

"You'll get pregnant."

"Probably. I'm ready for it if you are."

Emily wanted to let him have all the time he needed to think, so she relaxed and waited until Mark swallowed and slowly stood up.

"Emily, I want to have sex with you," he said. It was blunt, but she wouldn't have taken his word unless it was that clear.

"I want to have sex with you too," she confirmed. Though it was hard to keep a straight face with the sudden run of excitement.

"Let's go back to my chambers," Emily insisted as she stood and took his hand. "You can still change your mind. You just have to tell me."

"So can you," Mark added.

Emily wanted to sprint, but she knew Mark was still having a bit of a hard time (in many senses of the phrase), so she contained herself to a calm trot.

"Emily?"

The sound of her father's voice made Emily stop dead. Most of her attention had been focused on Mark, so she hadn't seen Corvo appear at the end of the hallway until he called out to her.

Emily looked form Corvo to Mark, then down at her frilly white underthings. There was absolutely no way she was going to be able to explain this.

"Hi dad…" she replied with a little wave. "We were just heading back to my room."

For a moment Emily wondered if he would try to intervene. Technically, as her chaperone and protector, it was his job to keep them from doing exactly this before the wedding ceremony.

Corvo held up both his hands took a step back, the universal sign for 'I didn't see anything.'

Emily smiled back at him and started back on her way. Corvo turned to go the way he had come, but then Emily broke off and ran to catch up with him.

"Father, wait! I… I know about you and Billie," Emily said, the words pouring out of her now she had finally decided to bring it up.

Corvo froze, his mouth hanging open. Emily stopped a few paces away from him her fingers closing around the front of her chemise.

"I… I think you should be with her. If it's what you want, I mean," Emily continued looking more at the floor then at her father. "You deserve to be happy, even if the person who makes you feel that way used to be part of something awful… But I wouldn't be alive if Billie hadn't rescued me from Dunwall… she's done everything she could to make up for it."

Emily had no idea where she was going with this. All she wanted was for her father to have what she had outside of his slowly fading memories of Jessamine.

Corvo's shock was quickly hidden behind his usual impassive countenance.

"How did you find out?" he asked.

"The night that Mark gave his speech at the academy, I went looking for you."

Corvo sighed and nodded. "Of course, I should have known I couldn't hide it from you."

Emily gave him an apologetic shrug. He had been the one to teach her how to listen and not be heard.

"It's up to you, but whatever you decide I'll be here for you, okay?" Emily insisted. She stepped forward and enveloped Corvo in a tight hug.

"I love you, dad."

"You too, sweetie."

Emily returned to Mark and lead him along to the false fireplace that hid his mother's secret chamber, and from there to the safe room.

* * *

 

Emily had intended to make it back to her bed, but when he eyes landed on the little nest of blankets and pillows tucked away in the corner of the safe room she changed her mind and dragged Mark over to it. She pulled him down with her then and climbed on top of him, his hips between her thighs.

Emily started undoing the buttons on the front of her chemise until Mark reached up and took her hands.

"I want to do that..."

Emily smirked and dropped her arms, this was bound to be interesting.

Mark sat up to get a better view and started where Emily had left off with the buttons. Unlike those found on coats or shirts, these didn't hold together two pieces of material, but rather gathered together fabric around her middle, so that when he was done the top part was loose but no closer to being off.

Next, he tried the ribbon tied around her middle, but that proved to be nothing but decoration.

Emily snickered. "I guess you didn't spend much of your time in the void watching ladies get dressed…"

She gently took his wrists and guided his hands up to her shoulders and the two lacy straps that ran over them. Mark pulled them down, and the rest of the top part of her chemise went with them.

Emily felt her cheeks start to burn. She had no idea why she was embarrassed, it wasn't like Mark was seeing anything new.

Perhaps it was just the way the firelight was framing him in soft orange and shadow. Or that this time there was more than casual interest in his eyes. He was hungry, not starving, just hungry. Emily could tell the difference, and that difference was going to end up driving her crazy.

He would take her apart bit by bit, savouring her, toying with her, trying out whatever he could think of, all because the demands of biology wouldn't ever override that most core tenant of his personality; curiosity.

His lips pressed against her collarbone and Emily held her chest up, trying to hold still as he worked his way down from there.

"Do you feel much here?" Mark asked, his fingers closing around her left breast.

"Not really, they mostly get in the way," Emily admitted with a slight shake of her head.

Even as she said it, Mark moved to hold both of her breasts, and Emily felt the heat between her legs get just a little warmer.

He moved his thumbs over her nipples and rubbed the pads against them. Emily's eyes widened, the sensation was intense, boarding on painful. She gasped, the muscles all the way down her torso tensing.

"What about now?" Mark asked.

Emily shot him a dirty look that only made his smile widen.

He leaned in and replaced one of his fingertips with his tongue. Emily squeaked, then his lips closed around it and he pulled a moan from her instead. He let go of her chest and wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her close as he switched from one side to the other circling the tip of his tongue around her nipple.

He pulled back with a soft smack of lips and murmured, "You're making such interesting noises… You're going to have to get used to this when there's a little one on the way."

"It's different when you do it!" Emily snapped back. She took him by the shoulders and pushed him back, then found the drawstring around her hips and tugged it lose. Her drawers came loose, and she shifted off of Mark to slide them down her legs along with her chemise.

She should have expected he would take advantage of that moment, but it didn't hit her until he had grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head against the mattress.

"You know, there's a wealth of folk tales and art revolving around this very scenario?" Mark asked as he loomed over her. "An innocent and beautiful young woman laid bare before the avatar of death..."

"Did the legends say anything about the 'avatar of death' refusing to get his dick out already?" Emily replied curtly.

She very nearly got him to crack up, but he managed to hold it together at the last minute. "Patience..." he purred.

"You need to get undressed at some point!"

"Must I?"

Emily tugged her wrists free from his hold and pounced on him. A tangle of limbs and a flurry of kissed followed as she tugged open his jacket and unzipped his pants. Mark made some token efforts to push her off him, but he neglected the fierce growl that actually would have made her stop.

Emily kicked his undershirt and jacket off the bed, eager to be done with them now that she was finally getting to see her prize. She eased him out of her drawers and pants all at once. Mark half covered his eyes with one arm, and if Emily didn't know better, she would have guessed he was blushing.

Newly freed, his cock stood proudly between his legs. Emily found she couldn't keep her hands to herself and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, her eyes lingering on the flared tip and the sturdy swell of the beginnings of a knot around the base.

Emily dropped down and brought the tip of his cock to her lips. A small trail of pre-cum was dripping from the tip. Emily leaned in and let her tongue drag over it, lapping it up. Mark groaned loudly, his hips bucking up in response.

"See? Two can play this game," Emily teased. "Now who's the impatient one?"

Mark pulled his arm up and pulled back his lips to show off his teeth.

"Still you. Let me prove it." He took a deep breath, lowering his voice into a snarl. "Get on your back and spread your legs."

Now it goes without saying that the Empress of the Isles didn't take orders from anyone, even her Alpha, but coincidently, she suddenly found herself thinking how nice it would be to change her position.

Emily propped herself against the pillows and slunk down against them. Everything from her inner thighs up was coated in slick. She couldn't have been more prepared for him.

Mark finished taking off his pants then came over to her. Emily reached out to him and held tight as they kissed. But then, he slipped out of her grip and the next thing she knew he was down between her legs and pressing his tongue between her lower lips. Emily cried out, half in pleasure and half in frustration.

"Maaaaaaark…" She whined as he pulled back to lick her inner thighs instead. She was getting wetter every moment, he could probably spend hours lapping her up like this.

He ignored her calling his name until the fifth or sixth time until he finally looked up.

"Fine, you win, I'm the impatient one… Please, just, fill me up," Emily begged.

Mark sat up slowly, caressing Emily's leg the whole time. "I'm not dragging this out to torture you. Even though you do look absolutely adorable with your cheeks that shade of red," He explained. "if we trigger your heat first, we can increase our chances…"

Emily sat up a little straighter. "You can trigger it?"

" **We**  can."

"How?"

Mark slipped behind her, holding around her waist and nuzzling into the back of her neck. His cock brushed up against her lower lips, between her innermost thighs.

"Let's just talk for a moment."

"About what?" Emily asked. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she also wished she knew where this was going.

Mark rested his chin on Emily's shoulder. His warm breath playing across her bonding spot just above the junction of her shoulder.

"You're sure you're ready for this?"

"What? Yes, I am," Emily replied curtly, twisting in her arms.

"Shhh, I'm not cross-examining you," Mark whispered, kissing her neck. "Just take deep breaths and explain it to me."

Emily sighed. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the hard length butting up against her and how it would so perfectly solve the clawing ache inside her if only Mark would change the angle a little bit.

"I'm the Empress. The kingdom is depending on me. There are a half dozen people who could have a claim to the throne and if the Kaldwin dynasty doesn't carry on. It could end in civil war, or worse, the breakup of the empire. I have to be ready."

It sounded so depressing when she put it like that.

"Pretend none of that matters," Mark replied. "Pretend your standing so far back you can see every civil war, every struggle for power; large and small. Once you see all of them in their complete context and realise each is just another bump on an endless road, ask yourself, do you want this?"

Emily wanted to say that she couldn't. That she was only human and could only see things from that perspective. But for him, she would try at least.

"…I think I would. I love you. I love us. I think it would be good. That we'd be good together. The three of us… maybe more."

Emily needed to know how the first turned out before she committed to more, but in her head, she liked to picture herself sitting for a portrait with her youngest on her knee, her royal consort on the right and her eldest's playing together in the foreground.

"…I didn't always want it. I thought it would be just one more thing to weigh me down, another reason why I couldn't go and have adventures… another bauble for my gilded cage. I didn't want any of it, right up until it was taken from me."

Mark hummed under his breath, the vibrations from the sound sliding down Emily's back like cold rainwater. "Things feel different once you have to fight for them? Don't they?" He asked.

Emily wished she could see the expression on his face. Maybe then she could figure out what he wanted from her.

"Is this going anywhere?" She whined.

"Focus, Emily."

"On what!?"

Mark's teeth brushed against her neck, so close. If he would only bite down.

"If this tower isn't a cage, what is it?" Mark prompted

"Riddles? Really?!"

Mark rested one hand on her belly, slipped the other between her legs and pushed two fingers inside her. Emily moaned. She twisted, trying to get them to go deeper, but without any success.

"What is it?" Mark asked again, as he brought his thumb up to tease her clit.

Emily could feel her slick dripping down his painfully still fingers.

Think. She had to think. If the tower was a cage, then she would be the bird trapped inside, but if she wanted to be here then…?

"A nest! It's a nest!" Emily shouted the very moment it popped into her head.

"Good," Mark purred. He strained his fingers and slipped them in the past the knuckle and started to move them.

"Little Magpie. You're safe inside your nest, and it's time to lay your eggs. You know what you want, all you have to do is surrender to it," Mark whispered.

Emily nodded. Completely out of strength to question him.

"Take another deep breath and fall."

Emily obeyed. A Warm rush flooded over her, starting in her hips and spreading out all over. Emily suspected that if she had a thermometer, she could have seen her body temperature jump several degrees.

Mark released his hold and gently eased Emily onto her back again. She panted heavily as he took his fingers back and licked them clean.

"Wh-what did you d-do?" Emily stammered through laboured breaths.

"Me? Nothing, really. I just made some suggestions, you did all the work," Mark explained.

Emily shut her eyes. Reminding herself that she had basically signed herself up for this. There was no point complaining now.

Mark took a second to rearrange the pillows around Emily, some behind her head and shoulders and two under her hips. Emily wanted to tell him she didn't need it, but her whole body felt like it was made of a combination of lead and gelatin.

She didn't quite understand what he was doing right up until he sat down between her legs and lined himself up with her, and she saw how the extra height in her hips was going to translate to increased depth in each thrust.

"Now it's my turn to return the favour," Mark braced himself against the mattress, pausing one last time to kiss her and insist, "Don't let me hurt you."

Emily nodded. Though at this point she would happily take a little pain, she wasn't made of glass.

He started pushing into her ever so slowly, and for one moment Emily thought she had overestimated her ability to handle it. She may have picked the quirkiest and most unaggressive alpha in the isles, but he didn't lack at all the in the size department.

Her hands closed into fists, and she grit her teeth, but it was too good to ask him to stop.

He did anyway though. Stupid, caring bastard.

"Emily?"

"Emily folded her legs behind his hips and pulled him in. Mark bowed his head (as he rightly should for his empress) a deep growl reverberating in his throat as she enveloped him up to the base of his knot.

For Emily's part, it was like she was finally getting to scratch an itch that had been driving her mad. She could feel the pressure from how full she was in every part of her hips.

"S-see that wasn't so Ha-hard…" Emily exclaimed breathlessly.

Mark nodded against her chest and laced his arms tightly around her middle.

Since he didn't seem to be in the mood to start moving on his own, Emily started rocking her hips, pulling back a few notches before grinding back down against his knot.

A low whine came from around her chest, and Emily stopped dead. Her body protested, every part of her felt like it was burning up, but she held it all back.

"Mark?"

She patted his back, but he didn't look up from her chest.

"Do…do you want to stop?" Emily asked.

"No… no," Mark replied firmly.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could finish Mark pulled back and slammed into her drawing a half scream instead. Emily arched back against the pillows.

Emily was still worried, but there wasn't much room left for it once he picked up the pace.

The head of his knot was rubbing up against her clit with every thrust. Driving her closer and closer until-

Emily curled up around him, burying her face in his shoulder as sparks flew behind her eyes. Just as it was almost over, Mark gave her a Final deep thrust. Setting off another shockwave.

When the world stopped spinning, and they were left clinging to one another.

Emily cupped Mark's cheek in her hand and gently eased herself back until she could look at him.

Tears were welling underneath his green eyes. He must have seen the alarm on her face because before Emily could ask he said, "I'm fine… just... overwhelmed."

Emily tied to push herself up, but as she moved, a tug from between her legs commanded her attention. She glanced down, noticing that the knot that had been doing an amazing job of teasing her was now firmly nestled inside and had already swelled up, tying her in place.

"O-oh…" She muttered. "I think I better just… lay here for a bit."

Emily let herself slide back into place and let her arms drop above her head. Mark loosened his grip around her middle and sat up a little to give her more space to stretch out. "You're sure this doesn't hurt?" he asked.

Emily blinked at him for a moment, she was starting to notice the warmth spreading in her abdomen, and it made it hard to think about anything else.

"H-hun? No, quite the opposite actually..." she reassured him breathlessly.

Emily tilted her hips back just a bit, testing the tie again.

Mark took hold of her shoulders and pinned her down,

"Stop moving."

"Feels good though…" Emily protested. She tried to bat her eyelashes at him, but then her knot-addled brain finally remembered that something was wrong with her alpha. She swallowed and gathered what she could of herself back together.

"I'll stop moving if you talk to me," Emily insisted, "Was it too soon?"

"No, it was fine..." Mark replied, then after hearing how that sounded he tired again. "No... it was amazing. It-it's just for a moment there... it struck me… I've never had anything to lose before."

Mark rested his head on her chest and squeezed her so tight that Emily had to hold her breath. "Can you love someone so much it hurts?"

Emily looked down at him, then burst out laughing. "Th-that's all!?" She kissed him on the top of his head. Mark glared up at her from her chest, but that only made her crack up harder.

"Let me up on top," Emily said, tugging on his arm until he helped her switch their positions. Emily settled in his lap, biting back her moans. She threaded her fingers into Mark's short black bangs and brushed them out of his eyes.

"Mark, look at me. I'm right here, I'm all yours," Emily murmured.

"Yes, you're right, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," Mark replied.

"Don't be sorry." Emily insisted. "It's perfectly normal. I know I say this a lot, but welcome to being human."

Mark smiled wryly back at her and murmured. "I might not be the only one you'll have to say that to in a bit…"

"I hope so…" Emily agreed. She took a moment to make herself as comfortable as possible while laying on his chest. She wasn't sure if he wanted to bring it up or not, but for all she knew, he was waiting until she asked for it.

"it might help you feel better if you marked me," Emily murmured against his collarbone.

"I already did."

"you know what I mean."

"The one on your hand is prettier."

"But I'll be the only one to bare it on my neck,"

Mark raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't you think that sounds a little possessive?"

Emily sighed. She could mention that he was literally just crying about how much he loved her, but she was way too tired to make that effort. At least she knew he was back to normal now. She traced her hand down the back of his neck, then tilting her head to the side to bare her own.

"Please?" Emily asked in her sweatiest keening voice. A moment passed, and just as Emily thought he really wouldn't, a sudden pain made her cry out. She went completely limp, then a warm tongue flashed out, lapping away the traces of blood from her throat. They stayed like that for a while until at last Mark's knot went down enough for them to separate.

Emily pressed her thighs together, but it didn't really help to keep any of it inside. Like it or not, there was nothing more she could do but wait. Either for results or to try again. Mark kissed her deeply, his fingers brushing over the fresh teeth-marks on her throat.

"How's it look?' Emily asked.

Mark's breath hitched. "B-better then I was expecting. You were right. It does help." He licked his lips and then said very quietly; "Mine…"

"Yours," Emily agreed.


End file.
